The Keeper by Darragh Martin Page A

OK?’ Caoimhe asked, suddenly interested. ‘I could mix up a remedy. Dock-leaves are good for bites and I have a few drops of lavender oil.’
    â€˜I want to go home!’ Sorcha screamed.
    Madame Q clapped her hands with an air of impatience. ‘Why don’t you go outside and play, child?’
    â€˜Come on, I’ll show you the jelly trees,’ Tom said.
    And you can be my apprentice druid-doctor,’ Caoimhe said, bundling up her books. ‘I need some help squeezing out the lemon jelly.’
    Sorcha didn’t seem thrilled about this, but went anyway, dragging each foot slowly to show how unfair the world was. Stephen stood up, unsure whether or not to go.
    â€˜She’s not usually like that,’ he said to Madame Q. ‘She’s just rattled because of everything that’s happened. We need to get her home.’
    He said the last word slowly, picturing the solid bricks of their Raheny home and the firm ground of Dublin, and wondering if the word itself was enough to charm them back. Madame Q ignored him and turned to Oisín.
    â€˜Now we can begin,’ she said, flexing her fingertips.
    Oisín put the Book of Magic on the table, feeling a small tingle as he pulled his hand away.
    â€˜What is that thing?’ Stephen asked as Madame Q picked up the Book.
    â€˜One of the most extraordinary and dangerous books in our world,’ she said, caressing the Book’s leather spine as if it were an old friend.
    Madame Q held the Book very respectfully and opened it slowly. For a second, Oisín was sure her eyes changed colour, flashing to a bright green. But when she returned her gaze, her eyes were as silver as ever.
    â€˜It’s the real thing,’ she said finally.
    Oisín couldn’t quite read her expression. She was definitely impressed by the Book, but there was something else there – fear or excitement, he wasn’t sure which.
    â€˜So what is this Book of Magic? Can it get them home or not?’ Cathleen Houlihan said irritably. She didn’t seem to have much time for books in general.
    â€˜Of course it can,’ Madame Q said.
    â€˜I’m its Keeper,’ Oisín said. ‘Does that mean I can control it?’
    â€˜If it wants you to.’ Madame Q gave a strange smile, pleased by her answer.
    â€˜Is that thing good or evil?’ Stephen asked.
    Madame Q looked at him as if he were a particularly unimaginative student. ‘That isn’t the question at all! The Book of Magic is powerful, that’s what matters. It’s like magic itself. It isn’t good or evil – it’s both.’
    â€˜Where did it come from?’ Oisín asked.
    A small snort flared from Madame Q’s nostrils as if she wasn’t used to storytelling and found all these questions rather tiresome.
    â€˜You’ve heard of the Dagda?’ she began.
    â€˜He’s like the god of the Tuatha Dé Danann, right?’ Oisín said, scratching at the back of his brain for what he could remember.
    Madame Q gave another snort.
    â€˜Thinks he’s a god!’ she said. ‘More like a large, fat old man with too much time on his hands.’Jimmy Houlihan looked a little shocked, so Madame Q quickly moved on. ‘A long time ago, the Dagda made a huge cauldron in which he placed the great gifts of Ireland. The Stone of the High King. The Harp of the Four Seasons. An Freagarach, the sword that can never be beaten.’ Madame Q reeled through these amazing items as if they were of little importance to her. ‘There were also six books in the cauldron, governing the five different kinds of magic of the Tuatha Dé Danann.’
    â€˜What are the five kinds of magic?’ Oisín asked.
    Madame Q looked as if her patience for storytelling was stretching.
    Jimmy Houlihan answered for her. ‘Earth, air, fire, water and Quintessence,’ he began. Seeing Oisín’s blank expression, he started to sing